Fair Play
by Cadet Grey
Summary: Sometimes enemies need to shove aside their pride. This is one of those times. Will anything good come out of it?
1. Chapter 1: Ideas

It was a gloomy day. Usually there were no clouds in the sky and the daylight would fall beautifully through the branches and leaves of the forest, but that day the sunlight seemed weak. The forest animals and its critters weren't to be seen anywhere, and even the flower's hue seemed to be greyer than ever. All of it, as if mother nature wanted to say that she knew how the assassins living in the forest felt. Because there, through the thick bushes, large plants, tall grass and oak trees, was a small, open place one would call a village for a very small amount of people. A village without market, a village without bakery. They even missed a well to get their water from. All there was to be seen in this village, were the houses of the people who lived there, a few stocking places, a barn for the horses and a single library. A tiny, lonely village no one ever had heard or spoken of, hidden in the biggest forest known around. In the biggest house of the village, there was a man. A wise looking, older man, staring out of the window. To the thick clouds passing by slowly and gloomy, which were usually never there. And he sat there, by his desk, looking out, thinking about whatever it could be that older men were worrying about, until a shrill, familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Something wrong, Gio?" a little girl asked him, approaching him from the open door that lead to the hallway. Her wild, blond curls were were slightly bouncing each time she took a step. "I saw the Assassins returned. Did you find what you were looking for?"  
The older man, whose name was Giovenzo, nicknamed 'Gio' by the girl, made a small sound of surprise.  
"Ah… Christiana. I did not notice you, there." Even though he greeted her sincerely, he turned his head away again to look out of the window. Obviously bothered, he answered: "I am afraid not… It's harder than I thought."  
Christiana showed a small smile that looked more like a slightly pitying gesture than an honest sign of happiness.  
"In that case…" she started. "Lookie! Look here, Gio," she added as she took off the belt around her waist that bound her tunic which was now just hanging loosely. With a small gesture she put the belt on the desk on the other side of the room, then walked back.  
"See my belt?" she asked. "I want it back." Then, the little girl started to twirl and walk around in circles. "Do you see why I can't get my belt?"  
Giovenzo watched the girl trying to teach him a lesson he had learned long ago. Nonetheless, he smiled. The sight of a child trying to teach him a valuable lesson was something that made him happy, and let his hope grow. So, he stood up, put his hands behind his back and played along. "Is it because… you are walking in circles?" he asked.  
As an answer, Christiana nodded wildly, a bright smile showing her missing tooth. "Yep! In other words, I keep doing the same thing over and over and over again." A stop. "Only a fool would do the same thing repeatedly and expect it to have a different result! So, all you need to do is..." she paused, and walked over to the desk. "Change your ways!"  
Giovenzo smiled. Once again, hearing wise words come from such a small, seemingly naive child made his hopes for her and a lot of other children rise high.  
Fastening her belt, Christiana kept on talking, explaining what she just did. "If something doesn't work, you need to try something else to get a different ending!" She looked at Giovenzo, who had walked towards her, and let two of her fingers poke his belly, playful as always. After he asked her what to do she shook her head and let out a small sigh.  
"That is for you to find out! You know better than anyone else what you have and haven't done, right? Maybe you should think about it. Maybe try to get help. Maybe you should not look for it and just go on with other stuff. You've got to keep trying. Not by doing the same stuff... But by trying different things."  
Soft chuckling escaped Giovenzo's mouth. "You're right. I should try something else." Once again, he made his way back to the window and continued staring. "It's a matter of time, but I have the feeling that we can reach our goal. It just needs some time and patience. A lot of patience."  
He looked at the girl, who was staring at him. The sight of the child made him flash a grin as he carefully let his hands pat her head, ruffling her curls.  
"You're a smart girl, Christiana. I appreciate your help. Gratze."  
Christiana closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of someone praising her in both words and deeds. "A lot of people say I'm not smart at all. But you and Maruccia say that I'm smart. It's really confusing," she replied after a while, still giggling at the compliment. "But I don't mind!"  
Giovenzo understood those people perfectly. Christiana wasn't always the sharpest tool in the box. She appeared as goofy and naive, and in all honesty - sometime she was. But then again, very rarely, she would say the right things, words that don't sound as if they're being said by a little, playful girl. Words of wisdom.  
"Perhaps they don't see what Maruccia and I see in you. I see something big, while the others may see something... completely different," he made of it, not wanting to sound too offensive. Hurting Christiana's feelings was difficult, but he was afraid to take that chance.  
Christiana let out a soft "huzzah" and smiled brightly again, flattered by his words. Looking around the room, she noticed the stacked books around and walked towards them, seeing if she saw anything interesting.  
"It's funny, you know. You guys are looking for the Apple, we are looking for the Apple, and yet no one seems to find out anything about anywhere about anyone," she murmured. "It's so silly."  
Harsh truth was spoken right there, and Giovenzo was aware of that, letting out a big sigh. "Si, it is-" A pause. Soft glisters showed an idea had been brewed in his mind. However, the man knew better than to immediately speak before he had given it a good thought.  
"…Si, it is difficult. Perhaps we all should walk a different path. We are all looking for the same thing, after all." He stroke his beard and whispered to himself. "Yet I am not sure…"  
Christiana laughed absently while browsing through a stack of books. "Yeah, right. If I backtalk to the big guys they'll flame me for taking their plans in doubt. I don't really think I have any influence," she said, referring to the leaders she served as a Templar squire. She obviously didn't give it a lot of thought as she found a dusty book she had taken interest in.  
Giovenzo accepted the fact she thought about it that way and started to think again, letting the girl read. Even so, after a while he took a glance over his shoulder to the surprisingly quiet girl, sitting on the floor, reading a book.  
"Say, Christiana? Did your team, your Templar friends, ever had to cooperate with... Strangers? As in, work together with people they don't like, but had to because they didn't have any other choice left?"  
Christiana looked up and thought for a second, progressing the question.  
"Yeah. Alchemists, mainly. But as soon as they're done with these people, they kill 'em. As soon as they get what they want, and the stranger is of no further need, they'll be dead. Usually because they've heard or seen any sort of crucial information or data," she eventually said. "Why do you ask?"  
With this newly gained information, Giovenzo thought back of his plan. New problems had occurred, but in his opinion, they could be fixed.  
"Just... Curious," he answered her. "Would you like to do something for me, Christiana?" he asked her, smiling at her optimism as she agreed.  
"My son, Francesco, is outside with Carlos. They've just returned from a… mission, but they haven't visited me yet. Could you ask them to visit my place? I'd be very grateful if you'd do that for me."  
"Sure thing! I'll do that," Christiana answered, closing the book she was reading. She put it back on the exact spot where she got it and walked toward the door, but stopped. She turned around and held her head a little askew, as she always did if she wondered something.  
"Do you want me to stick around?"  
Giovenzo watched her walk to the door and shrugged a little.  
"If you feel like it, you can stay. But make sure you won't bother people like Carlos or Hamid. They've been quite busy these few days. Other than that, you're free to do or visit whoever you want, child," he said. Christiana was always welcome, even if her loyalty had always been with the Templar Order. She was a good child, and innocent in the eyes of mentor Giovenzo.  
Christiana faked a pout in return. "Aw, my favourite," she said, referring to Hamid. She then laughed and said she was but joking. "I'll get to it, okay?" she asked as she ran to look for Francesco and Carlos, leaving Giovenzo to be alone again in his home. His eyes glanced over to the books Christiana was looking at, and the one she was so interested in. As he read the title, a smile formed on his face. It was a thick book.

An autobiography, to be exact.

* * *

"Carlos... Please, take it easy! At least we now know it's not there. Try to calm down!" Francesco said, trying to ease Carlos, who was walking with gritted teeth and looked furious.  
"How many times do we need to do this, huh?! It's a waste of time! A bloody waste of time!" Carlos yelled back. He was so done with it. Looking, searching for something that could literally be anywhere. He was so tired of running around like some slave, doing something utterly useless each and every time again.  
Francesco sighed. "Calm down! Father is only trying to figure out where it might be. He's doing the best he can alright," he said.  
"He is doing it wrong!"  
"You think so? Well, how about you go and tell him what your idea is instead of whining about it and walking in circles all day long!" Francesco snapped back. Whenever someone would speak bad of mentor Giovenzo, his father, Francesco jumped into defenses and crossed his arms. "We all are doing our best here, Carlos. I am asking you again to clear up your mind and think before you act or speak!"  
Carlos bit his lip and looked away. "Whatever!"  
"No, I want an answer. Well?"  
Just as Carlos wanted to open his mouth to say something, he got interrupted by a little Templar squire with red cheeks of the long run. It was Christiana, who had called out Francesco's name various times.  
"Good afternoon," she said, trying to catch her breath. Running with the heavy chainmail the Templars had to wear was no easy task.  
Francesco looked over his shoulder, down to where he saw the heated face of the girl.  
"Hm? Oh... Christiana! What brings you here?" he asked as his frown turned into a smile.  
With her usual loud voice, Christiana replied. "Giovenzo wants to see you two! He said you returned, but didn't visit him yet. It sounded as if he wanted you to hurry, so you'd better hurry back and talk to him, okay?"  
Francesco had a blank expression on his face, and then let out a small sigh after the realisation that he had completely forgotten about visiting his father after he and Carlos returned from the mission. Carlos was such a handful that Francesco found it difficult to focus on other things when he fell under his command.  
"Of course... Father must have been worried!"  
Carlos opened his mouth to say something again, but shut it as he realised he cared too little about the situation. So they forgot to visit a mentor: big deal. It wasn't something he was concerned about, and he wasn't about to let that mingle into the conversation. It'd only cause more annoyance.  
"We should go and see the Mentor," Francesco then said to the grumpy assassin. His frown turned into a smile as he talked to the girl and thanked her: "Gratze, Christiana. We shall visit my father soon.".  
Christiana nodded, and with an "Anytime, Francesco! Bye to you too, Carlos!", she ran back to the small town.

* * *

"Wh-what?! You want to…?"

Francesco was dumbfounded. The idea his father just told him seemed out of place, ridiculous, and straight-out dangerous. It didn't make any sense, and it sounded very unusual coming from the mouth of a person like his father, the one everyone respected and looked upon as wise.  
"What the bloody hell?! Are you out of your mind?" Carlos simply yelled.  
Giovenzo ignored the assassin's disrespectful way of speaking and used his hands to gesture him to calm down. "I am aware that this plan might sound crazy."  
Without giving the mentor a chance of explaining himself, Carlos already interrupted him.  
"Crazy? It's bloody insane! There is NO way this plan is going to work!"  
Once again, Giovenzo tried to use his gestures to calm Carlos. With a softspoken voice he tried to get through to the outraged young man, asking him to let him explain his plan, but surprisingly got interrupted by his son, Francesco.  
"Carlos is right, father. This plan might not work. Do not forget those are Templars we are speaking of."  
Carlos heavily nodded in agreement and stood up from his chair, walking around in frustration as he raised his voice.  
"Francesco has a point! Those are Templars! Bloody Templars! There is NO way I am going to cooperate with them!" He scoffed and smiled mockingly at the thought of it, but soon put his hands on the Mentor's desk, looking straight at him as he hissed his words through his teeth. "Did you honestly think they would help us?" He let go of the desk and turned around.  
"Trust us?" he called out, louder, making a wild gesture with his hands, only to come to a sudden stop. He clicked his tongue. "I am quite disappointed in you, Mentor…" With a quick move he turned around and slammed his fist on the elder man's desk, letting their eyes lock as he furiously yelled: "I thought you were supposed to be wise! But it looks like you're-"  
Now, Francesco was the one to yell. "That's enough!" he exclaimed as he stood up as well and walked up to Carlos. He pointed his finger at him as a threatening warning. "Who do you think you are to raise your voice against him?! Sometimes you forget who he really is! He is your mentor! Our mentor! Show some respect!"  
Carlos glared and hit Francesco's hand out of his face.  
"Who do you think you are to point at me and tell me what to do, huh?!" he yelled as he gave Francesco a provoking push against his shoulder. "Just because you're his son, that doesn't mean I have to listen to you!"  
Quickly, Francesco grabbed the other man's hand and held it tightly, in a painful manner.  
"Do not touch me," he growled at him.  
Carlos didn't care about the pain in his hand. He looked at Francesco and spoke with a semi-calm tone.  
"Do not tell me what to do."  
That was when Giovenzo himself got up and pushed both of the young men aside.  
"That's enough! Both of you! What is the meaning of this? I know you are both shocked, but that doesn't mean you have to get into a fight! Clear up your minds and pull yourself together!" he said, calm as ever but still strict as he looked at Carlos. "And please… Calm down, Carlos. Just because they're Templars it doesn't mean that they are all bad. They are human beings, too. Just like us, they're only doing their job. Sometimes because they want to, and sometimes because they have to. They too, have mouths to feed." He then turned himself to his son. "Francesco... You shouldn't scold him that much. It is not your rightful place."  
Francesco looked at his father with a regretful look of realisation, letting down his head slightly.  
"I'm sorry, father. Forgive me," he asked.  
The silence, however, did not last too long. Unlike Francesco and Giovenzo, Carlos was a temperamental assassin. Easily offended, aggressive and easily blinded by the rage caused by misunderstanding.  
"Ha! Human beings, you said? "Just like us"?! I thought you said that everyone was different and not the same!" The stubborn man crossed his arms. "You know what? I am out of here! The hell with you - and your plans!" he spat. He then turned around and walked right to the door, to leave the room and the house.  
Francesco looked as he walked away. "Carlos!" he exclaimed angrily. He was about to make Carlos stop from leaving his father without having calmed down and without any understanding, but Giovenzo didn't let him and shook his head, telling his son to let Carlos go. Francesco first objected, but Giovenzo once again shook his head and frowned at his son.  
"Don't order him around, you shouldn't get too hard-handed with him. Why do you fail to understand that?" He sighed. "Even though I've told you so many times..."  
For a second, Francesco feared he had let down his father, immediately apologizing to him.  
"I am so sorry, father. I just can't stand it when someone disrespects you so."  
Giovenzo gave a surprsingly compassionate, understanding look.  
"I understand his frustration and hate against the Templars. He has every right to be angry, he just doesn't know how to express his frustration other than fighting. Unlike you, he never had a father or a mother to love him, and teach him compassion." The memory of his wife pained him "I know what has caused his actions and behaviour. And so do you. I respect and forgive him. So, tell me, my boy: why can't you?"  
Without knowing why, Francesco shrugged. He didn't know how to answer that question. Actually, he had no idea why he was acting so bossy and strict when talking to Carlos. Carlos was the only one that got under his skin without actually doing something wrong. Why this was, Francesco did not know. Giovenzo took a glance in the direction which Carlos just left.  
"He'll come back after he has cleared up his mind. Shall we continue the discussing on my plan?"

A short pause.

"Yes, father."

* * *

At the very same moment, there was a young Frenchman walking through the thick forest nearby. Soft grumbling and short sighing was to be heard if one was close enough to him, his small conversation with himself making it quite a strange scene. Two brown eyes were scanning the environment, leaving a slightly disappointed, lost look on the face of the young adult. "Seriously, I've passed this exact same spot like… four times already. Where in the heavens am I?" he spoke with a thick French accent. Looking up showed nothing but branches and leaves trying to block the bright sunlight of the afternoon, and looking down was only helpful to see if you wouldn't trip over some twigs or rocks. Left and right were trees, unwalked paths. Another sigh escaped the man's mouth. It was no use. That was, until a small opening started to appear through the bushes, trees and thorns. A town? In the woods? The adolescent looked on the map he had tried to use before. Even though he was terrible at reading these, it was clear that there were no town, villages, or even camps built in the woods. Still, if there were buildings, there were people, who might be able to help him. "All good to go. Let's go to that town, then!'  
A few steps away from the young man's bright looking future, Carlos found himself walking around in circles, angrily growling at the ridiculous words his Mentor had spoken. Muttering things like "stupid old man" and "how could someone supposedly wise come up with something this stupid?". Extremely stupid. He clenched his hands into fists and with a loud cry he punched a nearby tree that hardest he could. In a flash, he withdrew his hand to see it bleed as he gritted his teeth in pain. "Stupid, stupid, STUPID old man!" he yelled, making the ears of the nearby lost traveler twitch and look his way. The traveler narrowed his eyes, and stepped towards Carlos, only to feel his body cringe as he realised it was an Assassin.  
"Great! Last thing I need is an Assassin on my path..." he whispered to himself. He turned around, to head in the other direction. If the Assassin were to see him, he'd be dead meat. And even if he'd survive, he would obviously be wounded without a home to drag his exhausted body to. Without medic nearby and without a safe place to rest, he decided it'd be for the best if he'd head into the other direction. Unfortunately for him, Carlos already held his breath at the slightest sound, making the Assassin's eyes swiftly look around in bitter silence. As he heard the crunching leaves, the Assassin jumped up, grabbing a branch and pulling himself up. Without being seen, without being heard, Carlos quietly used the trees to get him to the source of the sound, it getting louder each and every tree he got closer until he finally saw the person making the sounds by stepping through the forest with a worried look on his face.  
Carlos flinched and had to grab the branch he crouched on even tighter as he scanned the man's attire. It was unbelievable, but undeniable. The snow white robes with the cross as red as a man's blood itself were universally known to be worn by the dreadful Knight Templars, the Brotherhood's fiercest enemy.  
"But… how?" Carlos questioned the presence of the Templar. The village he lived in had been built and entered by Assassins only ever since it was built. No one showed up uninvited, because the village was built in a hidden place with great care, in one of the deepest and thickest forests known to man. Even so, he had no time to think about this. There was a Templar who was practically in their village, and he needed to get rid of him. With a quick move, Carlos launched himself from the branch. The Templar yelped as he fell down when Carlos landed on his back, quickly rolling the young man over to face him, holding his hidden blade at his throat as a warning.  
"One sudden move, and you're dead. Dead, I tell you!" he snarled at the Templar who was looking at him with fear. "Who the bloody hell are you? How did you find this place, Templar? And what are you doing here?!"  
"No, no, no! Stop! Don't!" the Templar squirmed. "Get off me! And get that thing out of my face!" he added, referring to the hidden blade pressed just under his jawline. He tried to focus his fearful, brown eyes on the Assassin's, letting out a nervous chuckle as Carlos's blue orbs glared right back at him. "W-would you be so kind to let me go, monsieur?" he tried. "I want to go home… It's what I've wanted for a very long time already, but I have no idea where I am and I have absolutely no intentions of crossing blades with an Assassin!"  
"I never asked you to lie," Carlos hissed back through his teeth. "I asked you what you what you were doing here!" Roughly, he let his his hands grab the Templar's thick, brown locks of hair, pulling them as he moved closer to his ear. "Listen up, Templar! Today is obviously not my lucky day, and if you're about to make it even worse by lying to me, you filthy wretch, then I will cut your bloody head off your body! UNDERSTOOD?!" He let go of the Templar's hair, who was letting out small grunts of pain. "Now tell me, what is it what you're really looking for?!"  
"Stop, stop! Don't do that!" the Templar begged. His eyes were trying to find someone, anyone, who might be able to help him, but it soon occurred to him that it was no use. This forest was way too big and way too deserted to have someone at the right place at the right time. Talking was the only option he had. "I know it's not what you want to hear, b-but I really wasn't looking for anything else except a path to Lotem! I'm terrible at reading maps. Just awful!" he quickly rattled as he tried to make him look as obedient. "S-so, don't hurt me! I didn't do anything, did I? I didn't even attack you when I saw you!"  
"Silence!" Carlos shouted at the Templar who trembled in response. "That's the worst lie I have ever heard! Everyone can read a damn map!" He threw his free hand up in the air as a mocking gesture. "How am I supposed to know if you're not lying to me, huh? Oh wait!" He moved closer again. "I don't! You Templars are all the same! Nothing but a bunch of lying, deceptive and selfish fools!" he yelled. "Why am I even bothering talking to you? Who do I even care? Your life ends here, Templar! To Hell with you!" Carlos held the Templar head down with one hand, and raised the other one to slit his throat. The Templar quickly closed his eyes, waiting for the impact. As the Assassin was about to give him the final blow, he stopped his hand, remembering something. Something he couldn't forget.  
"I may not care… But I do know someone else who does," he said. The idea seemed crazy, the idea seemed stupid, but it a chance to rub in his Mentor's face how incredibly wrong he was about the plan. This Templar would prove once and for all that his kind was never to be trusted. "I cannot believe I am doing this," Carlos whispered to himself.  
"Cannot believe what? What do you mean?" the Templar asked, just before he got pulled up by his hair, making him cry out in pain. "OWCH! Ow! No! Stop that! M-my hair!" he protested as Carlos dragged him along. "Ow! This is terribly unnecessary! Owch!" After Carlos snapped at him to shut up, all the Templar let out was a soft "mon Dieu" as they both headed towards the village.


	2. Chapter 2: A Trustworthy Templar?

"Father, I understand your point of view, I think. But then again, it seems like a fool's hope to actually believe this will work," Francesco said. "I wish I could share your optimism about this."  
"Don't you see what arrogance we show?" Giovenzo asked his son which such a casual to it took the younger one surprised. "We teach love and freedom, and yet we say that everyone can have that except those who think differently. Is that not exactly what the Templars do? Execute those who get in their way? Mistreating them?"  
Francesco shook his head. "You cannot blow it off like that. It's much more complicated."  
Giovenzo smiled. "Some things are much simpler than they seem. When you are too close to something, it is sometimes difficult to see the big image."  
This left Francesco silent. He knew his father was not stupid. He had proven himself to be a compassionate, wise man with a long history of teachings, betrayal, friendship and tragedy. He had known many situations of desperation, but to ask the Order for help was something never done before. With a reason, Francesco thought. When he wanted to object again, the door of the room slammed open, a furious Carlos holding an overwhelmed Templar in the opening. Carlos's eyes sought Giovenzo's.  
"You wanted a Templar, right?" he asked as he threw the Templar at the Mentor's feet. "Here is your little pet!" With arms crossed he glared at the Templar as a sign to stay down.  
When Francesco saw the Templar, he jumped up in surprise. "A Templar? In here?" he asked. "Cosa? What is the meaning of this? Carlos!"  
Giovenzo gestured to his son to stay silent and stood up, turning himself to Carlos.  
"I do not understand why you have bothered to find a Templar, only to throw him at my feet. What is it you are trying to prove?"  
Carlos scoffed. "What am I trying to prove? I want to see what you're trying to do! Look how effective your stupid plan of negotiation will be." He pointed at the Templar. "Here you have your little pet!"  
Giovenzo let out a big sigh. It was far from appropriate to get into an argument with Carlos with a trembling Templar in the room who most likely had no idea what was going on.  
"I assume he dragged you in here with... force?" he asked the Templar quietly, causing Carlos to protest immediately.  
"Hey, he was already in the forest!"  
The Mentor looked at Carlos, but soon enough let his eyes rest on the Templar again.  
"Is that so?" he asked, crossing his arms. He did his best not to sound too harsh, but he didn't want to come off as soft either. "Explain yourself, if you please."  
When the Templar saw noticed Giovenzo wasn't as aggressive as Carlos, he huffed a little offended. "I'm fine, thank you for asking." He coughed at bit and sat up straight, looking up at Giovenzo, who was looking straight into his eyes. "You don't own this forest, alright. There's no law saying I am not allowed to walk through it." A short sigh. "All I was doing was walking my patrols, but I'm terrible at reading maps and ended up with a random assassin on my back, pulling my hair as if it's his job," he explained, glaring a little at Carlos, who growled and glared right back at him.  
"I see. Then, I apologize for the misunderstanding. We are not used to see strangers in our village. It is meant to be a hidden village, after all," Giovenzo replied, leaving Francesco shocked.  
"Father!" he exclaimed. "I… Do you believe this Templar?" he asked. He, and many others, were aware of Giovenzo's keen sense of people. If someone was lying, he would know. If someone was hiding something, he would know. And if someone was being honest, he would know. But to believe and trust a Templar this easily was a little far-fetched, making Francesco himself turn to the Templar instead, crossing his arms as well. "You cannot read a map? That sounds a bit... Odd."  
"Of course it does!" Carlos said, rolling his eyes.  
Giovenzo frowned a little at the two Assassins. Just when he was about to speak, the Templar jumped up in defense.  
"Excuse me for not being skilled at everything I do! I'll work on it, alright!" he growled at Francesco but soon enough found himself making an apologizing gesture, then looking at Giovenzo. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'm usually not that easily triggered, I'm just very irked at the moment since I just got threatened by that fine man over there."  
Giovenzo let his hand rub over his forehead as he noticed it started to ache a little. Chaotic, non-chronological conversations had been a pet peeve of him, but he knew he could not really blame the Templar for getting defensive nor his son and Carlos for being skeptical.  
"It's alright," he started, only to be cut off by Carlos.  
"Threatened? You feel offended? Boo-hoo!" he snarled at the Templar. "You know, I can do more than threaten pathetic Templars like you!" With a dangerous glare he took out his hidden blade, making Francesco to snap "no!" and immediately walk towards Carlos.  
"No! You shall not attack this Templar! You don't have any permission from the Mentor!"  
The Templar now turned himself against Carlos. "The only one who's being pathetic is you! I may be a Templar, but I'm just a person as well, you know!"  
"Why would I need permission to kill a bloody Templar?!" Carlos yelled. "You heard that lousy coward loud and clear!"  
"Enough is enough!" Giovenzo then said, raising his voice. "If you two keep fighting about such utter nonsense, then please take your leave! I will not warn you two again. If I catch you two squabble once more I do not want to see either of you for the rest of the day! Please, behave yourselves for once!" When the elder realised he was yelling, he stopped and tried to calm himself. Francesco looked down in shame and the Templar cringed at the volume of Giovenzo's voice, but Carlos didn't seem to be impressed.  
"Behave yourselves for once!" Carlos mimicked. "What, do you think I'm some sort of dog? An animal, a pet you can tell what to do with one command?" He turned around and walked towards the door. "You know what? I don't want to see YOU for the rest of the day! Have a nice one!" With a slam, he closed the door behind him.  
Both Francesco and the Templar flinched at the loud sound of the door. Francesco looked at his father. He was obviously bothered, and needed some time for himself. Or at least, without him around.  
"I'll… I'll better go and see if anyone in the village needs something. Or check on the stocks. See if we need anything," he made of it.  
Giovenzo nodded, and Francesco left the room, leaving the Mentor alone with the Templar.

"...I'm sorry for the chaos, Templar. Please, have a seat," were the first words Giovenzo spoke after a moment to progress what just had happened. He himself sat down at his desk, gesturing towards the chair in front of it.  
"U-um... Alright, of course," the Templar replied as he sat down. "Yet I don't really understand. Why don't you let them kill me? Why ask me to sit down and talk? I have nothing special to offer, you really. No information, no places - nothing. I'm just an ordinary Knight Templar."  
Giovenzo noticed the fear in the Templar's eyes. A deep fear of getting threatened, tortured or even murdered, causing him to rattle on about how useless he was in the hope Giovenzo would spare his life. Giovenzo shook his head. "Please, calm your fears. Do not worry. We will not harm you just because you are a Templar," he explained. "My most sincere apologies for what happened before. Some of my students yet have a long way to go." He sighed again, this time of relief. The Templar seemed to be calmer, and his own mind had been organized by now. "However, it is true that I want to keep you here for a while. But not for long. All I wish to do is to talk to you about something. After we are done, you are free to go."  
"Talk?" the Templar asked, feeling confused. "But, like I said before, I don't have any information to tell you. Now I'm not a liar, if I would have any secret information I wouldn't tell you, but I really don't have anything to offer you!"  
Giovenzo shook his head again. "Do not worry. It is not a form of interrogation, I just want to ask you if you would please deliver a letter for me… to your leaders. I am sure you are aware of how well they are guarded, how deep into your territory that is. I cannot possibly get there alive, neither can my students. But you, my boy, can."  
The Templar thought for a moment. "Bonne," he said after a while. "But what am I supposed to say? I mean, 'bonjour, I got this letter from an Assassin leader I just so happened to run into who did not kill me' is not very credible."  
"Gratze," Giovenzo replied. "I am sure you will come up with something."  
Three knocks on the door made Giovenzo look over his shoulder.  
"Si?" he asked, the door slowly opening, a shy, young woman carefully showing herself.  
"Father?" she asked, walking in and closing the door behind her. "I didn't want to bother you," she started slowly. "But… I was so worried. Especially when Francesco told me to leave you be. I had to ask: are you alright?" She did not notice the Templar.  
Giovenzo nodded at his daughter. "I am fine. Don't worry," he said, smiling at her. "Fiorella.. Is it alright if we talk another time? I am a little busy at the moment," he said, giving a small nod in the Templar's direction.  
Fiorella nodded at her father, and held her head a little askew as she saw the Templar. After mere seconds of eye contact she yelped and jumped back. "You!" she exclaimed. "...You?" she asked right after, to be sure.  
The Templar seemed to understand her reaction, replying to it with glee. "Why bonjour, mademoiselle," he said, sounding both surprised and amused. "What a coincidence! I didn't think I'd be seeing you again anytime soon. Is your ankle all better?"  
Fiorella didn't know what to say. She made a small sound of insecurity. She didn't know how to react at the Templar, and took a nervous glance at Giovenzo, immediately looking back at the Templar to avoid eye contact with her father. "I… It's fine, thank you," she stuttered. "What, uh… What about you? Tyècelis?" she asked.  
The Templar, whose name was revealed to be Tyècelis, replied a lot more easy-going than Fiorella. "I'm fine! Thank you. Well… I thought I was going to be killed at first, but now I've found myself talking here, to this person who I assume to be your father. Small world, non? But I'm glad to hear you're fine, it was a quite painful twist."  
Giovenzo looked at Fiorella, then at Tyècelis, and then back at Fiorella. "You two know each other?" he asked carefully.  
Instead of replying to her father, Fiorella smiled at Tyècelis. "Oh… That's good to hear!" she said, both trying to hide her face and looking at the Templar at the same time. "Wait!" she called out all of the sudden. "Wh-what? Killed?!"  
Giovenzo coughed, asking for his daughter's attention.  
"Oh my goodness," Fiorella said, seemingly ignoring her father. "What happened?" She put her hand on her chest as a sign of compassion towards Tyècelis.  
"Oh, non! Don't worry!" For the first time, the Templar chuckled, showing a very boyish smile. "It's alright! I was just walking through these woods when all of the sudden an Assassin landed on top of me. He did not truly harm me, though. He only pulled my hair." Tyècelis showed her a fake pout, but quickly smiled again. "Nevermind that, though. I'm all fine!"  
This made Giovenzo realise he couldn't get their attention using subtlety. He, however, did not want to interrupt the scene that made a small chuckle escaped his mouth. A lot of questions were to remain unanswered, but he was alright with that. It could wait. At least now he had the time to write the letter. He shrugged and stood up. "I shall be in the eastern study. I will return with the letter soon. Take care and wait here, alright?" Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door, looked over his shoulder for a moment, and left.  
"He pulled your hair?" Fiorella asked Tyècelis a little worried, looking at his hair. "I can see that! It's a little messed up…" she said, only then realising what she had just said. "I-I mean, you still look good! I mean, your hair! Well, I do mean you, but- I mean, uh..." With red heated cheeks she tried to stay cool.  
"It's okay! No need to be so defensive, I don't bite!" Tyècelis said, noticing how uncomfortable she felt after what she said.  
"Let me fix your hair, then!" she said, walking towards him. Carefully she brushed her fingers through his thick brown hair, trying to get some sort of model in it again. She kept her mouth shut in embarrassment, fearing she might have made a fool of herself. When she felt like she was done, she took a few steps back to get a better view and nodded. "Si, it looks so much better now."  
"Your face is all red! Haha, how sweet!" the Templar said. "Merci beaucoup, mon chèri!" He chuckled at Fiorella's behaviour. "Why are you so shy? There's no need to hide that smile! You're way more beautiful when you smile! Come on, let me see it. I've seen it when we were in town, so I know you can do it!"  
Fiorella sighed a little. "W-well… I never thought I'd see you again! So, I think that made me a little… nervous, I think." She smiled at him. "You're very sweet. Thank you," she said. A soft sound of giggling was to be heard when she thought about their first meeting.  
"There you go! You're just too kind," Tyècelis said, liking the sight and sound of Fiorella's giggles. "But, it's not fair, to be honest. Being that beautiful and nice is kind of much for one person to carry along with her, non?" he said after Fiorella settled down on the desk in front of him. "Aren't I just the sweetest person? As sweet as sugar, one would say!" he added boastful.  
Fiorella's giggles got louder as she noticed the Templar was flirting with her. She didn't mind. "Oh you! You're so charming… But don't you mean sweet AND handsome?" she asked. When she heard herself say that, she immediately tried to correct herself. "I... I mean… Sweet and playful!" she tried, knowing it was too late already as Tyècelis's grin was wider than ever before.  
"How about sweet and playful and handsome?" he asked with a wave of fake arrogance. "Non, don't worry, my ego isn't that big. But thank you for the compliment, though, it is appreciated! And the fact you were the one who said it to me, makes me even happier." Seeing Fiorella's blush again made him chuckle. "Aww, that's adorable!"  
"I… Heh. Well, you're welcome, I guess!" she replied. Looking at him, she tried to say something to him, but just when she was about to talk to him, the door of the room opened. She immediately jumped off the desk and casually walked away from Tyècelis, towards the bookshelf, watching the Templar from the corner of her eyes.  
"My apologies for the wait. I have finally finished my letter," he said, handing the letter over to the Templar. "I would very much appreciate it if you would take this to your leaders."  
"Letter? What letter?" Tyècelis looked at Giovenzo and recalled what they were talking about before. "Oh, oui!" he quickly said, taking the letter. "Thank you. But… What about a reply? If they'll give you one, that is. You'll never know how long it'll take them to stop being outraged and offended because you dared send them a letter." He grinned. The Order was filled with pride, sometimes even arrogance, and it there was no point in denying that. "But if they do send a reply: what's your plan?"  
Giovenzo merely nodded. "There is no need to rush. But, si, I'd like to get a reply." He placed his hand on the Templar's shoulder. "Gratze for your patience, child. One of my sons is waiting for you at the end of the hallway. He'll lead you to Lotem. Once your leader wrote a reply, and want you to take it to me, my fellow student will find you. As you can see, there is no need to worry."  
Tyècelis shrugged. "So basically, I'm now your messenger boy," he stated right after he stood up. "I'll take it. And how nice of you to lead me back home. I hope that son of yours has a better sense of direction than me," he joked, aiming at what had happened earlier. "Oh well! Thank you, sir. I guess I'll be leaving now?"  
"It doesn't have to be you specifically, though," Giovenzo answered. "Whoever the Templars may send to deliver the letter, we shall find them," he said, making Tyècelis scrape his foot in discomfort. The thought of Assassins being aware of everything made the Frenchman feel uneasy.  
"Uh… I'll see how I'll talk my way out of this with Maruccia." But after a soothing "take care" the Templar turned himself towards the door with a better feeling. As Giovenzo walked to his desk, Tyècelis let out a small smile of relief and thanked Giovenzo. "Au revoir," he said softly, trying to waving at Fiorella as subtle as he could. As her peeking eyes spotted it, she smiled and waved back. Neither of them noticed Giovenzo's stare.  
When the Templar was out, Giovenzo turned himself to his daughter.  
"Fiorella."  
Fiorella put the book down, trying to sound casual. "Si, Padre?" she asked.  
"Could you… Come over here for a second?" the old man asked her, gently placing his hands behind his back. He always did that when he was about to have a serious conversation, or was being strict.  
"S-si, of course, father," Fiorella answered, having a feeling what this was about. She slowly stepped towards the Mentor, carefully waiting for what was about to come.

* * *

"C-Cosa?" Francesco exclaimed. "Lorenzo, please…" he said, sighing at his little brother's stupidity. Although he was a grown man, Lorenzo's point of view seemed to go no further than the one of a hormonal 18-year-old boy.  
"What? I do think you two would make a cute couple!" Lorenzo answered, his small ponytail bouncing as he shook his head as if to ask "how could you be so blind?". "Even father thinks so," he added, as if he actually cared for what Giovenzo had to say about the situation.  
Once again, Francesco tried to explain the situation to his brother. "I told you then, I'll tell you now: I am not interested in any sort of romantic relationship! I just do not feel the need to have one, so I won't get one until I feel like I want to!" He took a small step back. "Angelina and I are but friends. Good friends, for sure, but still just friends."  
The response made Lorenzo roll his eyes. "Si, of course," he said, using a big amount of sarcasm. "You know, Francesco? You're boring sometimes. No wonder no-one likes you," he said teasingly, grinning at his own joke. Francesco did not appreciate it.  
"Like I said, I am not interested in romance and the likes of it."  
"I know. I was just messing with you!" Lorenzo said, giving his older brother a small tap with his elbow, causing Francesco to sigh and shake his head in disapproval while trying to suppress a small smile.  
"You were with me just now, weren't you?" a familiar French voice asked. Francesco turned his head in the direction of the voice. He raised his eyebrow in confusion.  
"Are you the son of that person who didn't introduce himself to me but seemed to have a fairly high position? The person I assume to be Fiorella's father, making you her brother?"  
The cynical reaction made Francesco frown a little, but he ignored it.  
"Si," he answered. "But that is not the person you saw before," he explained, pointing at his brother. Lorenzo immediately showed an expression made of pure disgust.  
"Who, Carlos? Ew…" he muttered, arrogantly looking up. "You'd better not mistake me for him. I am way more handsome than that thing."  
Francesco shrugged. He was about to speak, but Lorenzo pushed him aside and walked towards the Templar.  
"I am Lorenzo!" he called out proudly. "Giovenzo's youngest son. Nevermind that," he added quickly, as if it was really unimportant. "You must be the Templar!" he commented, scanning Tyècelis from his leather boots, to the red cross on his tunic, to the heavy shoulder plates, to his face. "Heh."  
Francesco sighed deeply. "No, really?" he asked, covering his eyes forehead with the palm of his hand. "Do you see anyone else with such heavy armour on? And dressed up like... that?" He glanced over at the Templar. "No offense."  
"Rude," Tyècelis replied. "It's not that bad. Just a tunic with a Dominican based cross." He couldn't help but feel a little offended. It wasn't that bad. Just because he didn't like them, it didn't mean they were hideous. Tyècelis, however, wasn't the type of person to care about other's opinions too much, so he turned himself to Lorenzo.  
"Bonjour, Lorenzo! Call me Tyècelis. Nice to meet you. I like your hair," he said, smiling at the Assassin's small ponytail peeking from under his hood.  
Lorenzo grinned. "Oh why, gratze, little Templar," he said, chuckling. Francesco made a quiet, subtle sound of disapproval.  
"So, are you the ones who are going to take me back to Lotem?" Tyècelis asked, the question directed at Francesco.  
"No," he said. "He is going to take you to Lotem."  
When Tyècelis wanted to reply in offense, he quickly added the reason as to why he would not accompany them.  
"I am waiting for someone else."  
Lorenzo threw his hands up in the air. "Great job, Francesco! You've offended Tyècelis twice in less than a minute!" He took Tyècelis's arm and softly tugged it as a sign they were about to leave. "He is mad because he couldn't ask his partner to go on a date with him," he whispered a little too loud. "Va bene! Let's go, hm?"  
Francesco decided to ignore his little brother and kept looking around to see if the person he was waiting for had arrived yet.  
"I'm good to go, don't see a reason why not!" the Templar replied, waving at Francesco. "See you. Or not. Probably not. But still! Goodbye!" A small nod.  
"Va bene," Lorenzo said, nodding back at the Templar. When he wanted to lead the way, he stopped and turned himself to his brother. "Tell father I'll be home late."  
"Again?" Francesco answered, a wave of annoyance flowing over him. "What is it now? Lorenzo, we talked about this. Father doesn't like it when you come home late all the time."  
Lorenzo turned around. "Huh? What's that, Fiorella?" he called out. "Oh! Alright! I'll be right there, sister!" He took a glance at Francesco. "Goodness, we'll have to leave! Bye!" he said, running off while holding onto the Templar's arm, giving him to chance but to run off with Lorenzo.  
"H-hold up!" Francesco called out. "Fiorella is with father!" When the door slammed shut, Francesco understood his brother's intentions and let out a big sigh.

"What am I going to do with him…?"


End file.
